Dracula

looks a little too pale. Her eyes look as though she had been crying. Poor dear, I've no
doubt it frets her to be kept in the dark, and it may make her doubly anxious about me
and the others. But it is best as it is. It is better to be disappointed and worried in such a
way now than to have her nerve broken. The doctors were quite right to insist on her
being kept out of this dreadful business. I must be firm, for on me this particular burden
of silence must rest. I shall not ever enter on the subject with her under any
circumstances. Indeed, It may not be a hard task, after all, for she herself has become
reticent on the subject, and has not spoken of the Count or his doings ever since we
told her of our decision. 2 October, evening--A long and trying and exciting day. By the
first post I got my directed envelope with a dirty scrap of paper enclosed, on which was
written with a carpenter's pencil in a sprawling hand, "Sam Bloxam, Korkrans, 4 Poters
Cort, Bartel Street, Walworth. Arsk for the depite."
I got the letter in bed, and rose without waking Mina. She looked heavy and sleepy and
pale, and far from well. I determined not to wake her, but that when I should return from
this new search, I would arrange for her going back to Exeter. I think she would be
happier in our own home, with her daily tasks to interest her, than in being here
amongst us and in ignorance. I only saw Dr. Seward for a moment, and told him where I
was off to, promising to come back and tell the rest so soon as I should have found out
anything. I drove to Walworth and found, with some difficulty, Potter's Court. Mr.
Smollet's spelling misled me, as I asked for Poter's Court instead of Potter's Court.
However, when I had found the court, I had no difficulty in discovering Corcoran's
lodging house.
When I asked the man who came to the door for the "depite," he shook his head, and
said, "I dunno 'im. There ain't no such a person 'ere. I never 'eard of 'im in all my
bloomin' days. Don't believe there ain't nobody of that kind livin' 'ere or anywheres."
I took out Smollet's letter, and as I read it it seemed to me that the lesson of the spelling
of the name of the court might guide me. "What are you?" I asked. "I'm the depity," he
answered.
I saw at once that I was on the right track. Phonetic spelling had again misled me. A
half crown tip put the deputy's knowledge at my disposal, and I learned that Mr. Bloxam,
who had slept off the remains of his beer on the previous night at Corcoran's, had left
for his work at Poplar at five o'clock that morning. He could not tell me where the place
of work was situated, but he had a vague idea that it was some kind of a "newfangled
ware'us," and with this slender clue I had to start for Poplar. It was twelve o'clock before
I got any satisfactory hint of such a building, and this I got at a coffee shop, where some
workmen were having their dinner. One of them suggested that there was being erected
at Cross Angel Street a new "cold storage" building, and as this suited the condition of a
"newfangled ware'us," I at once drove to it. An interview with a surly gatekeeper and a
surlier foreman, both of whom were appeased with the coin of the realm, put me on the
track of Bloxam. He was sent for on my suggestion that I was willing to pay his days
wages to his foreman for the privilege of asking him a few questions on a private matter.
He was a smart enough fellow, though rough of speech and bearing. When I had
promised to pay for his information and given him an earnest, he told me that he had
made two journeys between Carfax and a house in Piccadilly, and had taken from this
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